


Third Time's The Charm

by sickly _sweet (sketchy_and_unformed)



Category: Viva La Bam RPF
Genre: Dubious Morality, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Prostitution, everyone agrees to it but...you know...prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-25
Updated: 2005-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sketchy_and_unformed/pseuds/sickly%20_sweet
Summary: Dunn shook his head, sneering. “Don’t try that. I see those clothes you’re wearing. There’s dirt on your knees. So don’t fucking kid me.”
Relationships: Brandon Novak/Ryan Dunn
Kudos: 2
Collections: Livejournal reposts: CKY/HIM





	Third Time's The Charm

“BJ, twenty bucks.”  
  
The guy appraised him for a moment before shaking his head and walking away. Novak cursed to himself, hitching his tight t-shirt higher up to show off his abs. Fuck, almost two hours he’d been here and only made $60 so far. That wasn’t even enough to get him through the week. Maybe he should up the price when he did get a customer.  
  
Three more men came out of the club door and Novak was quick to call out.  
  
“Hey guys, BJ’s, twenty bucks a piece.”  
  
He attempted to look alluring as they glanced over, but they laughed and carried on walking. Shit. He’d thought Woody’s would be the perfect place to get this kind of business. He’d put on some of Bam’s eyeliner and everything.  
  
A blonde haired slightly stocky man left the club and Novak called out again. Well, they said the third time’s a charm.  
  
“Hey, how ‘bout a BJ, twenty bucks?”  
  
The man froze and turned slowly, and Novak’s stomach dropped down into his shoes when he realised it was Dunn. Shit. Shit shit shit.  
  
Ryan’s eyes narrowed and he took a step closer to Brandon.  
  
“Mother fucker. What the hell are you doing?”  
  
Brandon shrugged, trying to laugh it off.  
  
“Just a joke, sweetheart. Lighten up already.”  
  
Dunn shook his head, sneering.  
  
“Don’t try that. I see those clothes you’re wearing. There’s dirt on your knees. So don’t fucking kid me.”  
  
“What’s it to you anyway, Dunn?” Novak challenged, folding his arms confrontationally. Ryan’s face darkened.  
  
“It’s something to me because the last time you sucked a guy off was for fucking _drug money_.”  
  
“The fuck? Dunn. You know I’ve been clean for going on three years now.”  
  
Novak could feel his heart rate picking up and cursed the fact that he’d always been a lousy liar. Ryan suddenly grabbed him by the shirt collar and slammed him against the wall. Brandon gasped as the wind was briefly knocked out of him, then stared straight into Ryan’s dark blue eyes.  
  
“What’re you gonna do? Beat up on me again? That won’t do any good either way.”  
  
“I should call Bam up right now,” Dunn snarled, “so he can finally know what you’re really like.”  
  
Novak realised the ace he had up his sleeve and wasted no time in using it.  
  
“So you’ll call Bam and tell him you were on your way out of a gay bar when you saw me? Go ahead. I’d love to watch you do it.”  
  
The fierceness drained out of Ryan’s eyes and he swore through gritted teeth. Brandon smiled grimly at him.  
  
“Fucking stalemate or what?”  
  
“Shut up,” Ryan snapped, abruptly letting go of Brandon, causing him to stumble slightly. Regaining his footing he reclined against the wall, rough bricks against his exposed back, with his hands deep in his pockets.  
  
“So how ‘bout I let this one slide if you do the same?”  
  
Ryan considered, something changing in his face.  
  
“I can go one better.”  
  
Novak blinked as he began to undo his belt.  
  
“Ryan, what are you…”  
  
“Twenty bucks, right?” Dunn’s tone was business like, but there was the slightest tremor detectable in his voice. Novak swallowed and looked at him from beneath dark eyelashes.  
  
“Yeah. Twenty bucks.”  
  
“Alright then.”  
  
Novak hesitated for a moment, then slowly dropped to his knees. One of Ryan’s hands instinctively went to his hair, but he looked away, fishing in his pockets for a cigarette. He lit up and exhaled upwards, licking his lips.  
  
“Get on with it, then.”  
  
Brandon pulled down Ryan’s zipper, stretched out the elastic of his underwear, realised he was already hard and almost stopped. Then he took a deep breath and parted his lips.  
  
Ryan bit back a groan, letting his cigarette dangle lazily from his lips. He moved his hips against the action of Novak’s mouth, both hands tangled in his wavy brown hair.  
  
Brandon tried not to think too hard about what he was doing, breathing through his nose and steadying himself with a grip on Dunn’s thighs. But at the same time, part of him wanted to make this the best damn head of Ryan’s life. He curled his tongue around and heard Ryan inhale sharply.  
  
And yeah, Ryan was embarrassed at how quickly his legs were shaking and his breath was coming in pants. He’d been keeping his eyes closed but made the mistake of looking down at Brandon, just once. Brandon’s eyes fluttered upwards and they stared at each other as Ryan came with a grunt and two quick jerks forwards.  
  
Brandon pulled away and spat onto the asphalt, and Ryan quickly pulled up his jeans, stumbling and supporting himself against the wall. He noticed a couple of guys watching them and flipped them off, earning laughter and cat calls as they wandered drunkenly away.  
  
Neither man said anything as Ryan first tossed the rest of his cigarette to the floor, then pulled out his wallet and sent a cascade of notes and coins to the ground, muttering “Spend it on whatever the hell you want,” as he did so.  
  
Then he turned and walked away so he wouldn’t have to watch Brandon, still on his knees, scrambling to pick up every last quarter.


End file.
